Dream A Little Dream Of Me
by OccasionallyRestless
Summary: "The dreams themselves attracted scientific interest. And if the fact that every person dreamed of a different voice wasn't enough, the realisation that the dream-voice belonged to the individual's soul mate made it damn fascinating." soulmate!Klaine
1. Dreams

**Disclaimer: **I announce that I do not own Glee and its characters. Lyrics at the start are _Dream a Little Dream of Me _by Mama Cass and it's a beautiful song.

**AN: **this is my twist on the 'soul mate' theme of stories. I haven't seen one like this before but I'm sure there's some somewhere. I hope you enjoy my interpretation.

This will be a story in two parts, possibly with a mini third chapter epilogue. The majority of the second part is written and should be up next week.

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><p><em>Stars shining bright above you<br>_Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'  
><em>_Birds singing in the sycamore tree  
><em>_Dream a little dream of me__

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><p>It begins when the individual nears puberty, typically around the age of eleven or twelve. It starts off slowly: first, the dreams enjoyed (and the nightmares feared) at night fade until sleep is dreamless. Then out of the nothing comes a voice – just a whisper, nothing more – which provides a somehow comforting soundtrack to sleep. It soothes and calms and is unfailingly present every single time the individual sleeps.<p>

This phenomenon in itself would be enough to attract the interest of scientists and psychologists, and if the fact that every person dreamed of a different voice made it worth investigation, the realisation that the dream-voice belonged to the individual's soul mate made it damn fascinating.

For Kurt Hummel, however, it wasn't so fascinating as it was frustrating.

This year, the start of his life as a junior at McKinley High, made five years that he'd spent with dreams filled by a soft male voice. That was roughly one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days he'd spent yearning to be able to put a face to the whispers that crooned soft, indecipherable songs to him when the pressure of life or bullying or even homework became too much and he cried himself to sleep.

Some days the whispering voice was all that kept him going – the proof that there was someone out there just for him. Kurt could never leave his soul mate alone in the world, not when he knew how it would affect him.

When he was younger, Kurt had asked his dad what happened to the nightly whispers if your soul mate died. Burt had explained that the voice was replaced by silence.

"_But daddy my head is filled with silence sometimes. It's not so bad."_

"_Son, the whisper you hear isn't just a noise – it's a connection. A connection to that one person in the world meant just for you. If that whisper's not there…it's a constant reminder of loss, Kurt. The silence makes people feel alone and that's a very sad thing."_

Later that year after his mom had died, Kurt had started a ritual of creeping into his dad's bedroom at night when he was asleep. For just a little while, he would sing softly to try and remind his dad that he wasn't really alone no matter what the silence said.

Then his dad had started dating Carole – the result of an accidental meeting at a parent teacher conference. Although it wasn't deemed socially acceptable to ask about another person's dream-voice, Kurt had _had _to ask his dad whether he heard Carole whispering to him now.

"It's not a whisper exactly," Burt had replied, smiling slightly, "but it's a hell of a lot better than silence and it's definitely her."

Since then Kurt had read up about 'secondary mates' – cases where widowers began to hear very faint murmurs indicating their connection to another person, albeit a much weaker one than that to their soul mate.

It seemed that everyone around him was connecting: his dad and Carole, Finn and Rachel, even Puck and Lauren. He was forced to sit every day in a class where, more often than not, Rachel would let slip how _amazing _and _fulfilling _it was to have finally connected to her other half. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd listened to her describe how it felt when everything clicked – a bolt of lightning, an epiphany worthy of Einstein. A moment where you just think:

_Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever._

But Kurt hadn't truly been alone – he'd still had Mercedes, his fierce diva, and together they'd spent many a night professing that they didn't need the man of their dreams because they had other desires that were achievable without their supposed Mr Right. Then new boy Sam Evans moved to town and Kurt watched with a happiness tinged with dismay as his best friend found her soul mate.

And no matter how often he tried to make himself think he was fine, no matter how often he professed loudly in the middle of Glee club that being so wholly reliant and connected to one person was unhealthy and antisocial – Kurt always looked forward to hearing that whisper in his dreams.

He ached for that feeling of completion that came with finding your mate, yearned for it more than the Chanel sweater from the latest issue of Vogue and _that _was saying something. It was obvious on all his friend's faces that they were happy and late at night in his bed, staring blindly at the ceiling, he would wonder sadly why it wasn't _his turn _yet. Didn't he deserve it? Even Puckerman the playboy had finally connected – didn't he deserve it more than the boy who used to throw him in dumpsters because of who he was?

_When will it be my turn?_

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><p>Kurt sat off to one side, listening without interest as Mr Schuester finished reading out their competition for Sectionals. <em>Some old people and a group of uptight rich boys? Please, we'll have more rhythm than both of them combined.<em>

"Mister Schue, if I may?" was Rachel's opening statement before she quickly rose to her feet and stood in front of the group with a serious expression. "As you're all aware Sectionals is in three weeks and we are no closer to determining song selection. I'm worried that this may be a downfall compared to our competition-"

"The Grannies and the gay boys aren't competition. They're just there to fill in time before we go on and rock their world," Puck interjected with a smirk.

"Well, I'm concerned that our lack of preparation may damage our chances of winning. So I propose we do some research on our competition to see what we're up against," she concluded with a wide smile, proceeding to preen under the praise from Mr Schue and Finn, the former of whom complimented her and put it to the whole group as the bell rang to go on the internet and find out as much about their competition as they could.

Kurt rolled his eyes as he swung his bag over his shoulder – he was pretty sure that Mr Schuester's idea of research wouldn't quite match up to Rachel's.

He was proved right only moments later when the short brunette came up to him as he was getting books from his locker. "I want you to spy on the Warblers." Kurt turned to her with an arched brow and she immediately became flustered. "You know it would be good for the group, Kurt, and-"

"So why don't you do it? I'm surprise you'd trust any of us with a mission of such importance."

"Well, you're the only guy in New Directions who hasn't connected yet so I thought…" the slam of Kurt shutting his locker cut her off as he began to walk away.

"Kurt wait!" Rachel caught up to him quickly. _Well she's nothing if not determined and severely lacking in the fashion department, _he thought with a sigh as she half-ran to keep up with him. "Please, we need to know about their style, their song choices, choreography, anything – it'll help us beat them and then we're one step closer to Nationals!" Seeing that this line of thought was getting her nowhere, she tried another: "Besides, isn't your dream-voice a boy? Well Dalton's an all-boys school so maybe-"

Kurt came to a sudden stop and cut her off with an icy glare. "Maybe what, Rachel? Maybe my soul mate not only lives in Ohio but goes to a school only hours away? Maybe he's in the Warblers? You know what I'll bet he is – he probably sings lead. And I'll go there to _spy _and hear him singing and I'll finally connect. Is that what you were going to say?" When the girl merely gaped at him with glassy eyes, he turned on his heel and stormed off. "Grow up Rachel, life isn't a fairytale."

_Or at least mine isn't._

That night Kurt tried his best to sleep, desperate to hear the soothing tone that never failed to calm him and make him feel safe. But after half an hour when the deep breaths he'd been taking began to make him feel dizzy, he rolled onto his back with a huff and frowned at the ceiling thinking once again just how _unfair _this whole dream-voice, soul mate business was.

_I could be happy if I didn't have to hear his stupid perfect voice every night of my life._

The bitterness didn't last long as Kurt quickly fell into his most common pastime: compiling a mental checklist aptly named "Kurt Hummel's Soul Mate Is."

So far, he'd covered:

_Romantic  
>Fashionable<em>_  
>A gentleman<br>Obsessed with music and musicals  
>Handsome<em>

Kurt sighed softly and smiled just at the thought. Even though he only knew one definite thing about his soul mate (_Male_) he liked to think he could pick out certain qualities from the murmurs he'd cherished for years. Like that he was almost one hundred percent sure that the boy, whoever he was, was a singer.

From conversations overheard in the choir room, Kurt had come to realise that the other members of New Directions mostly heard murmured conversation in their dreams whereas for him, a night that was absent of a soft, vaguely familiar melody was unusual. He did hear conversation sometimes, and even once or twice he woke with the sound of rich laughter fresh in his mind, filling him with warmth and putting a smile on his face.

And this was why he just couldn't let go of Rachel's stupidly optimistic words from earlier.

Because _what if._

He sighed again, eyes fluttering closed as he frowned a little. Westerville, home to Dalton Academy and the Warblers, was just under two hours away, so if his soul mate _was_ miraculously a student there then surely they would have connected already. Maybe have seen each other at the mall just out of town or in a restaurant or somewhere, _anywhere_, but they hadn't.

Kurt wasn't going to get his hopes dashed just because Rachel Berry couldn't control her flair for the dramatic.

But still…a nagging little voice in his mind was reminding him that just because he hadn't connected with his mate didn't mean they hadn't seen each other, or even been in the same room. After all in order for mates to connect, each one had to not only hear the voice of their mate but also share eye contact. It was an incredibly miniscule detail, unimportant almost, except that it was ridiculous how few people looked Kurt in the eye that weren't his friends. The jocks didn't lower themselves to acknowledge him beyond locker slams and slushie facials and the general public was so closed off in their own little world of problems that they barely acknowledged anyone, let alone a seventeen year old boy wearing skin tight jeans with Doc Martens and a top hat.

Incredulous looks were abundant, yes, but they never included eye contact.

And this was why Kurt had the little voice in his head: what if his soul mate did go to Dalton and they'd just never been in close enough contact to connect? What if the answer to basically everything he'd wished for was only a couple of hours away? Would he really be willing to let the chance to meet his soul mate slip away because he was too busy ignoring Rachel? Was he willing to get his hopes up in the (highly likely) chance that they'd just get torn down?

With one final sigh, Kurt curled up on his side as he felt sleep tugging at his mind. He wasn't kidding himself – he'd made his decision as soon as Rachel had voiced her planned method of research.

He just needed to sort out what he was going to wear.

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><p>The next day Kurt waved goodbye to his dad as he always did, but then instead of heading for McKinley he started the two hour drive to Westerville.<p>

Dalton Academy was breath-taking: majestic red brick buildings surrounded by perfectly kept emerald lawns smattered with trees. The sight caused Kurt to drive wide-eyed into its parking lot and taking a moment when he'd stepped out to just gape. The Academy had such an air of history, possessing a well-worn grandeur that could only be gained over a significant period of time. Kurt was pretty sure he was in love.

The interior was no less impressive – winding staircases linked corridors peppered with various chairs and benches. The heavy doors were a polished dark wood, the lighting fixtures on the right side of extravagant and the artwork on the walls tasteful yet varied. He'd never been somewhere that felt so…_cultured_ before. Not to mention the décor was fantastic, the leather and dark wood filling the building with a warmth that could easily be missing from the large rooms. He spent some time wandering around with curiosity before really starting his spying, hoping to come across a music room of some sort. So far he'd only come across several classrooms and a few very well stocked labs.

While searching, Kurt formed two scenarios in his head: in the first, he stumbled into the middle of a Warblers practice session and got to watch them without being seen; in the second he spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly until someone caught him and threw him out.

That was just best and worst case, of course, but he didn't see the point in thinking of every possibility when he had a boy band to find.

He strode down yet another hallway filled with a few groups of boys in uniform, trying to seem confident even though he had absolutely no idea where he was when a tall brunette skidded into view at the end of the corridor, hands cupped around his mouth. "Attention fellow Daltonians: Warblers performance in the senior commons in five minutes! Get your asses down there!"

Immediately every single person in the corridor hurried towards the boy who'd made the announcement in excitement, jostling past Kurt who followed after them with a small smirk. This was even _better_ than the best case scenario – he'd be hidden in a crowd and could slip away at the end and the Warblers would be none the wiser! It was as-

_Kurt._

He instinctively paused to see who'd called but frowned in confusion almost immediately. No one here knew him, so what-

_Kurt. Kurt!_

The frown slipped from his features and his eyes widened as shock and realisation flooded through him.

It was his dream-voice, his _soul mate's voice. _It had taken him a moment to realise because he'd never known it was possible to hear it when you were awake.

He'd also never heard it say his name before.

_Kurt!_

A desperate, aching need instantly filled him and he looked around wildly. Even though the corridor was deserted he knew, just _knew _that his mate was near. He could feel their connection humming and crackling under his skin, propelling him forward until he was running down the corridors, twisting through them with no thought until finally – _finally…_

_I'mma get your heart racing in my skin tight jeans  
>Be your teenage dream tonight<em>

Kurt skidded to a stop, breathing heavily and staring at a partially open set of doors at the end of the corridor he was in. The humming under his skin was almost tangible now, flooding through his mind and showing him the way.

_There, _it was saying. _There._

His soul mate was in that room.

And he was _singing. _Kurt's heart skipped a beat.

_Let you put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans  
><em>_Be your teenage dream tonight_

Beyond the doors was a large crowd of the uniformed boys, but although he was looking Kurt wasn't really seeing anything, still struggling with the knowledge that his soul mate was _right there._

Sounds of laughter and light conversation had taken over from the singing but he was frozen, chest still heaving with unsteady breaths suddenly completely unable to take those last few steps towards everything he'd been dreaming of. He was so unfocused that he didn't see a large group of boys heading towards him until one of them, on noticing Kurt's shell-shocked expression, said something to the boys before leaving them to stand in front of Kurt, concern crossing his features: "Are you alright?"

Kurt looked up at the tall Asian boy standing in front of him and blinked stupidly. He'd forgotten he was standing in the middle of a busy corridor in a school. He opened his mouth to answer but suddenly one of the others he'd been walking with laughed loudly and Kurt froze all over again.

_That's him._

He could feel their connection as if they were strung together, could feel it pulling at him and his entire being was _screaming _at him to turn around and set eyes on the boy, to have the lightning strike of realisation and permanently entwine them together.

And suddenly he was scared.

Terrified. Terrified out of his mind.

He had to get out.

"I-I-I'm f-fine," Kurt didn't know why he bothered replying before turning and basically tripping past the people around him as he half-ran down the corridor.

He didn't notice that the laughing boy had frozen, the colour draining from his face when Kurt spoke. Didn't hear footsteps some distance behind as he was followed, didn't think, didn't stop moving until he was in his car driving away from the school, away from that unknown boy.

Away from his soul mate.

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><p><strong>TBC<br>**Reviews would be cherished and loved.


	2. Fears

**AN: **this is more like chapter 1.5 than a whole one by itself but I had people requesting a Blaine POV. actual _requests. _I couldn't believe it, thank you. so you get rewarded with an extra almost-chapter with a little unplanned Blaine POV thrown in. I love me some Blangst.

next update will be late next week (I have assignments due so if it's a bit late, I apologise. but it's half written so shouldn't be long) I hope you enjoy

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><p><em>Say nighty night and kiss me<br>__Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me  
><em>_While I'm alone and blue as can be  
><em>_Dream a little dream of me_

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><p>Kurt didn't remember the drive home, didn't remember shutting himself in his room and ignoring his dad's questions about why he was back early. He had a vague recollection, but the panic and ever-growing annoyance at himself took up most of his attention.<p>

He was _such _an idiot.

Lying on his bed with one hand draped dramatically over his eyes, Kurt mentally berated himself for his complete lack of courage.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

He'd waited _years_ to meet his soul mate, dreamed quite literally of nothing else. Mentally complained and pleaded with some unknown entity for it to finally be his turn…and what did he do when the chance miraculously arrived out of nowhere? He _ran_.

And the thing was he couldn't even figure out why. He'd spent – he lifted his hand to check the time – the past two hours trying to figure it out, ignoring his dad's call for dinner in an attempt to unravel the reason behind the heart-twisting knot of fear that had gripped him as soon as he'd heard that beautiful, rich dream-laugh coming from a boy less than ten steps away from him.

Kurt couldn't help but smile as his heart skipped at the memory of that voice – his mate's voice. What was soothing in sleep was heart-wrenchingly beautiful and _real _in waking.

So why had he run?

With a huff Kurt pushed himself up to begin his moisturising routine, even though it was early. He needed something to keep his hands busy as he thought.

It was commonly known and accepted that a relationship between mates was predetermined and Kurt had never questioned that…but coming into almost-contact had really, for the first time, made him realise that his soul mate wasn't just a voice but a _person. _With thoughts and feelings and favourites and allergies and mannerisms and all of a sudden he couldn't help but wonder why people couldn't have a choice. What if you hated your soul mate but were stuck with them?

How did whatever it was that controlled the voices _know _that out of every single person on the planet that, yes, this boy was the one for him?

_What if we have nothing in common? What if he thinks fashion is stupid and dresses like Finn? What if he hates musicals? What if he hates me?_

Sitting at the mirror of his vanity, Kurt watched his eyes widen as he realised why he'd run, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs: whilst he was scared that the real-life person wouldn't live up to the man he'd imagined, Kurt was absolutely terrified that his soul mate would feel that way about him. That he'd take one look at Kurt and his heart would drop because _surely his soul mate couldn't be that pale, overly skinny, sarcastic Glee kid? You're kidding, right?_

With a groan he dropped his head onto the table. Hard.

He was _such an idiot._

It was stupid, ridiculously, immensely_ beyond _stupid to think that he wouldn't be exactly what his mate wanted and vice versa. But he was so used to hate – so used to slushie facials and bruises from locker doors and washing the garbage smell from his clothes – that he wasn't quite sure how to handle the knowledge that there was a boy out there who'd been dreaming about him.

His breath hitched. Slowly, Kurt lifted his head so he could see himself in the mirror again.

He'd never thought about it like that.

All these years, that boy had been dreaming about _him._ Longing for him, relying on the thought of him to make life a little brighter on the bad days.

He studied himself in the mirror – that boy had been waiting for the chance to see these features. To meet him and talk to him and just _be_ with him. He'd been waiting for it for years just like Kurt had.

Kurt had run from that boy today.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

He wasn't just an idiot, he was selfish. It wasn't up to him to decide if his soul mate could see him or not, it was basically the boy's right to see him. The sound of his laughter echoed in Kurt's head again and he loved the reflection of the gentle smile that curved his lips. His reasons for running were ridiculous – he was almost ashamed of himself. There was no way his self-esteem was so low that he truly believed he was capable of disappointing the one person in the world meant just for him. He'd been overwhelmed, that was all, and the strength of the emotion inside him had scared him into running.

Kurt was ready to meet his soul mate. He was more than ready.

There was only one thing for it, he thought as he straightened and finally began applying moisturiser: he'd go back to Dalton. He'd go back to Dalton and find this boy and then he'd experience everything his friends had with someone who was going to become the best part of his world.

Tomorrow. He'd go to Dalton tomorrow.

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><p>Blaine Anderson was renowned for his upbeat nature. He always had a smile on his face and a kind word in his heart for anyone passing by and was never seen by the general public of Dalton with anything less than perfect composure.<p>

So when students saw him running down halls pushing through crowds of boys without apology and then locking himself in his room, it was immediately a source of gossip.

Blaine didn't care. He hadn't noticed. He hadn't done much of anything, actually – hadn't answered the tentative knocking of his friends, hadn't changed out of his uniform, hadn't moved at all since he'd sat down on his bed after locking his door.

He'd thought, though. That's all he'd been doing: thinking.

And remembering.

"_I-I-I'm f-fine."_

That voice. That pure, angelic voice that he'd be able to pick out of a roaring crowd. The voice he'd been dreaming about for years, the voice that belonged to the one person he wanted to meet more than anything.

He'd been right there. _Right there. _After the Warbler performance he'd started to feel on edge, like his skin was buzzing, but had put it down to the effects of adrenaline and the high of performing. Now he knew it was because his soul mate had been close enough to touch. Close enough to connect to.

He felt a hot pressure start to build up behind his eyes.

His soul mate.

"_I-I-I'm f-fine."_

His soul mate had run away from him.

"_I-I-I'm f-fine."_

Try as he might to control it, Blaine felt tears start dripping slowly down his cheeks.

Why had he run? Had he taken one look at Blaine and been so horrified that he needed to get as far away as soon as possible? Why was he even at Dalton? Blaine briefly thought maybe he was a new student, but that was immediately thrown aside as the image of the boy-_his soul mate-_running and getting into a car came to the forefront of his mind.

Blaine knew this image perfectly, from the styled chestnut hair to the definitely non-Dalton issue clothing. He had it burned into his mind, couldn't stop replaying it over and over, watching time and again as he failed to stop his mate running out of his life as quickly as he came into it.

He screwed his eyes shut in an effort to stop the tears but it didn't help. Letting out a haggard breath, he clenched his jaw and fists in an attempt to let out some of his pain. _Why did he run?_

He could only think of one answer: _he doesn't want me._

This time Blaine didn't try and stop the tears, allowing them to create interweaving tracks on his skin. He'd never felt more alone than he did now.

And he couldn't help but think there must be something inherently repulsive and wrong in him if his soul mate rejected him.

His dad would agree, he knew. Richard Anderson had made his opinion on same-gender dream-voices clear the first morning his twelve-year old son rushed into the kitchen to declare he'd finally heard the clear tones of his male soul mate.

What made things worse was that his usual method of comfort was to sleep. He would sleep and let the musical dream-voice soothe and comfort him because he knew it belonged to a boy, no doubt a beautiful boy, who would _never_ hurt him, never push him away. A bitter laugh broke from his throat, quickly turning into a muted sob.

He'd been so _stupid. _So naïve.

Just because soul mates exist didn't mean life was a fairy tale – Blaine had learnt that lesson at his old school thanks to the boys who punished him for something he couldn't control. He should've remembered it. But why did he have to have a mate that denied him? Why couldn't he be like Nick and Jeff or Wes and Jen? Why why _why?_

Uncaring that his uniform would get wrinkled and he hadn't washed the gel from his hair, Blaine curled up on his bed and clutched a pillow close to his chest. He was a helpless romantic, always had been ever since his mom had told him about the dream-voices and what they meant. Over the years he'd conjured up images of them together hand in hand at various places: the beach, on a picnic, at a restaurant, in the mall, at the movies, everywhere.

He had a lot of images.

The pain it caused him even thinking that they wouldn't happen was almost tangible. He supposed he'd better get used to it though, because by the looks of things Blaine Anderson wasn't going to get his fairy tale ending.

As Blaine curled himself closer to the pillow, soft tears still carving harsh tracks down his cheeks, for the first time in his life he wished that he wouldn't hear the soft dream-voice that now only reminded him of a betrayal of trust, a loss of faith.

For the first time, Blaine wished he didn't have a soul mate.

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><p><strong>TBC<br>**Reviews are loved and cherished.


	3. Connection

**AN: **wow I'm actually updating when I said I would, this is a first! Anyway I'm quite happy with this chapter - I may have gone overboard on the fluff but...well, I think in soul mate fics we just want ALL OF THE FLUFF. so here it is. I hope you enjoy.  
>There will be an epilogue because I know what I want to put in it, but none of it's written so...look out for it in a couple weeks or so, maybe. hopefully.<p>

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><p><em>Stars fading but I'll linger on, dear<br>Still craving your kiss  
>I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear<br>Just saying this_

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><p>The next day, Kurt didn't go to Dalton.<p>

It wasn't his fault though – his dad had needed his help after school at the shop and by the time he'd finished it was way too late to even think about going. _It's okay,_ _I can go tomorrow._

He didn't go the next day either, although that was because his tires had been slashed. _Ignorant Neanderthals._

The next day Mercedes dragged him out to ask for advice about what she could get Sam for his birthday, which turned into a long discussion about the pros and cons of hair dye from a box compared to a professional job.

The next, they made their final song selections for Sectionals and Mr Schue ordered them all to be there.

The next, he had a calculus test that counted towards his end of year grade.

More days passed, each one throwing a curveball at him that put his trip to Dalton off to some other day. As the gap between his spying trip and the present got bigger, Kurt became more and more unsure about the whole thing.

It wasn't that he didn't _want _to go, god he wanted that more than anything, but recently the dream-voice had been quieter, more reserved, almost melancholy. It had only sung to him once in the week since he'd visited Dalton, something that had never happened before, and it had been a slow tune that ached with sorrow.

Kurt understood what the dream-voice was telling him: his soul mate knew he'd been there, and by running Kurt had hurt him very deeply.

And so as time passed, he got increasingly worried about how to make it up to the unknown boy, how to explain his actions to make his mate's pain disappear. The longer he left it, the more invisible pressure he felt – not even planning his dad and Carole's wedding could completely distract him. Hearing the dream-voice every night kept his guilt and worry at the front of his mind and he would sleep restlessly, aching for the chance to go back to that beautiful school and that beautiful voice.

The opportunity never arose, but eventually time was on his side and the day of Sectionals arrived.

The competition in which they were competing against the Dalton Academy Warblers.

Of which Kurt's soul mate was a member because he could sing _beautifully _if the closing lines of music he'd overheard were anything to go by.

On the bus Kurt was literally unable to sit still. He fished a pen out of his bag, twirling it absentmindedly over his fingers as he stared out the window and half listened to the very, _very _long pep talk Rachel was trying to bestow upon the noisy group. The rest of the New Directions were just as restless as he was, but there was an edge to Kurt's anxiety that had caused him to sit separate from the others, not feeling composed enough to take part in their conversation.

He couldn't focus on inane bitching and squabbling, not today.

Today was the day his life was going to change. The day it was going to get _so much better._

His heart fluttered and a small, giddy smile lit his features as that rich laugh echoed in his memory for the millionth time. He'd hear it again soon, in as little as an hour – _sixty minutes, 3600 seconds_ – and this time he wasn't afraid to look, to connect.

Kurt was nervous, excited, anxious and impatient but not afraid. Not anymore.

In fact his impatience seemed to be taking over as he glared out the window at the traffic that was practically _crawling _down the road. "God what is taking so long? There's a gas pedal for a reason."

Luckily the only one who heard his outburst was Tina who raised her brow, staring at him in mild surprise from her seat across the aisle. "It's just traffic, Kurt. We won't be late – we're quite close I think."

'Quite close' turned out to be just over twenty minutes, so it was no surprise to Kurt that they were the last ones to enter the auditorium. Mr Schue ushered them quickly to their reserved seats and he was forced to sit just as the lights went down, disappointment flooding through him when he didn't even get a chance to look for a group of matching navy blazers.

It seemed they were just in time for the first group as a voice came over the speakers, announcing the Hipsters to polite applause from the audience.

Kurt's fidgeting continued throughout the elderly glee club's performance. While, yes, they were endearing, he couldn't help but think their hearing aids must be faulty because the key they were singing in wasn't one he'd ever heard before. He spent the majority of the time scanning the audience, craning his neck to see over Mr Tall two rows in front of him and searching each and every seat for a glimpse of the Dalton crest. His fidgeting only became more agitated when they were nowhere to be seen.

_Oh god what if they decided to pull out and aren't competing? Would we have been told if they'd done that? But we were late…maybe we missed the announcement. Maybe he got sick and they couldn't perform. Maybe he told them I spied on them and they decided not to come-_

The sound of applause jerked him back to awareness and he watched with wide eyes as the Hipsters slowly left the stage and the curtains closed. When Mr Schue and the rest of New Directions made no move to get up, his fidgeting increased tenfold. His heart was trying its hardest to break through his ribs as he fiddled nervously with his hair, smoothed his pants and squirmed in his seat – alternatively sitting on the edge or pressed right against the back of it, straightening his spine in an effort to find the spot that gave the best view of the stage.

His movements became so frantic that he drew the attention of Mercedes who frowned and placed one hand over his to still his movements. "Are you okay, boo?"

As soon as the words left her lips, several things happened at once.

The first: Kurt's focus flickered to Mercedes.

Then, a split second later, the stage curtains opened.

And finally an announcement rang through the auditorium: "Please welcome to the stage, from Dalton Academy in Westerville, the Warblers!" Immediately, Kurt's eyes widened and his whole body tensed.

_Oh my god._

It was as if every one of his senses was alert and waiting, buzzing, _humming _in anticipation. He heard the squeaky drag of material as the curtains opened again and the mere seconds it took for the music to start felt like hours.

But once it started…

The opening notes of Train's _Hey, Soul Sister _hit him but Kurt barely heard the harmonies, too absorbed in drowning in the beautiful tone of the most familiar voice in the world.

_Your lipstick stains  
>On the front lobe of my left-side brains<br>I knew I wouldn't forget you  
>So I went and let you blow my mind<em>

Kurt was completely incoherent, he didn't even have enough control to turn and face the stage. All he could do was stare at Mercedes with wide, unseeing eyes and try to remember to breathe because breathing was essential if he wanted to meet his soul mate.

His soul mate that was on stage right now, right in front of him_. _If only he could turn and _look._

Mercedes squeezed his hand again, worried by his behaviour, but Kurt barely noticed and just squeezed back slightly before taking a deep breath. _Courage, _he told himself and turned to face the stage.

Shifting slightly to see past Mr Tall, his eyes drifted over the Warblers, not focusing on any of them until he found their soloist. That was the moment his world realigned.

_Oh._

All the tension flooded from him until he was staring up at the boy with lips parted and eyes shining with emotion.

That boy – that gorgeous, tanned, dark-haired, talented boy that was bouncing across the stage with infectious energy was _his soul mate. _It didn't matter that he didn't know the boy's name, mannerisms, allergies, _anything _because the voice singing out to him was instinctively a source of comfort and warmth and he just knew: that boy was meant for him. A shaky, disbelieving laugh bubbled up from his chest. He understood now why Rachel went on about this all the time; it was like his vision was sharpened, like his eyes were wiped clean of the dust and grime from years past and this was the first time he could truly _see._

And what he was seeing…it was too much. It was unbelievable. _His soul mate._

He was perfect.

"Kurt are you okay?"

It was Mercedes. The smile that tugged at his lips was nothing short of blissful as he murmured his reply: "Oh 'Cedes I'm so much more than okay." His eyes were glued to his mate so he missed the girl's confused look as she glanced between him and the stage, trying to follow his line of sight.

After a moment, her eyes lit up in realisation as she hissed: "Oh my god, boo, is one of them your soul mate?" Kurt nodded, smile widening as she squealed quietly, the sound eliciting a confused look from Sam who was sat on her other side. "Which one? The main guy?" Kurt nodded again, excitedly this time, eyes never leaving the form of the boy – _his_ _soul mate – _as he side-stepped in time with the music.

"God Kurt that's- as soon as they're finished, we'll find them, okay? We'll get you to him. Even if I have to personally beat down that crowd of boys myself, we'll get to your man."

Kurt just nodded again, barely feeling Mercedes' death grip on his hand as he focused intently on the boy on stage. In just five minutes or so – _300 seconds – _they would be able to meet face to face, be able to _connect._ He didn't know quite how he could possibly feel better than he did right now looking from a distance but he was desperate to find out.

He'd waited five years; he could manage these last five minutes.

_There you are._

* * *

><p>Blaine was breathing heavily as the curtains closed at the end of their performance, breaking into a wide grin as the usually uptight Warblers broke into loud shouts and cheers of excitement and pride.<p>

"That was _awesome!"_

"We nailed it you guys! We totally nailed it!"

"CELEBRATORY WARBLER PILE!" were the last words Blaine heard before he was promptly crushed by several bodies, all laughing and jumpy with adrenaline.

"Okay guys, we haven't won yet-"

"Shut up Wes."

Blaine just shook his head in amusement as they made their way off stage to the wings, listening to Wes and David run a play-by-play of their performance. He was edgy though, too edgy to really pay attention, and it wasn't just from adrenaline. He felt weird – almost claustrophobic in his suddenly stifling uniform. Reaching up to loosen his tie, he took a deep breath and frowned when the tension didn't lessen. His hearing was strangely hollow, the voices around him vague and unclear.

"Blaine? Hey- Blaine? You okay, man?"

He blinked a few times and focused on David. "Yeah I…I dunno I just-"

"Boys you best move out of my way before I _make _you move."

The Warblers were murmuring in confusion and Blaine's attention was drawn to a pretty girl in a sequined dress who was shoving through them with almost vicious determination. "What's going on here?" Wes called to her. "You can't just-"

The rest of the reprimand went unheard by Blaine. His vision and focus was drawn and kept by the sight only a few steps away from him and his earlier claustrophobia was replaced by a sensation close to pins and needles, peppering over his skin as he stared, lips parting slightly in awe.

His eyes were so _blue._

The boy took a step closer, staring back at Blaine with equal intensity, eyes shining as he smiled. "Hi."

His breathing hitched. With that one word, Blaine's entire consciousness shifted. He knew that voice, had memorised it years ago, and now its owner was standing before him looking as beautiful and perfect and _real _as Blaine could have ever hoped for. His mind was racing, thoughts tripping over each other as he tried to make sense of the situation.

_The dream-voice, that's him he's there and he's my soul mate. He is my soul mate. Mine. And he's tall and perfect and his eyes oh god his eyes god what's his name I need-_

Clear as a bell, one word rose up above the others: _Kurt. _And he knew it was right.

"Kurt," the name passed his lips almost without him realising but he knew it had as he watched the boy's – _Kurt's, his soul mate's – _jaw drop slightly, eyes widening a little as they became glassy with tears.

"_Blaine_."

That was all it took – hearing the voice he'd been dreaming of for so many years _finally _saying his name urged him forward, and the next thing he knew warm arms were wrapped around his shoulders and his head was buried in the crook of Kurt's shoulder, his own hands grasping tightly at the boy's back. He could feel Kurt trembling, hear the soft sobs and laughter as if they were his own so Blaine just held him tighter, breathed him in deeper and let a wide, teary smile light his features.

Kurt had never known he could feel like this. His heart was beating at an insane rate, he was flushed and he knew his clothes would be ruined from the strength of Blaine's grasp but he didn't _care. _He was holding his soul mate in his arms and was being held in return. If he thought he'd felt happy before, it was nothing compared to the euphoria flooding through him right now.

He pulled back a little, needing to see those deep hazel-green eyes that already meant so much to him. Blaine looked up in confusion that melted away quickly when he saw Kurt's smile and felt a hand tentatively rest against his cheek, fingers gently brushing at his tears. He returned the gesture, unable to resist the longing to touch – to feel the reality in front of him.

Kurt's smile grew at the feel of rough fingertips on his skin, they were so close he could see a tear beaded on Blaine's lashes and he brushed it away softly: "Hi soul mate."

Blaine let out a breathy laugh, his hand curling around Kurt's jaw, "Hey soul mate." He looked up into the shining blue eyes staring at him with such care and adoration and felt relief bubble up in his throat, relief that all his doubts had been wrong. But that brought memories of the past few weeks to mind and he couldn't help but let the words escape as his eyes welled with fresh tears, this time of hurt. "_Kurt_…god, Kurt I-I thought you – that you didn't…didn't…"

He was unable to finish and squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to stem his tears, hating how fragile his voice sounded. God he was so pathetic, no wonder Kurt had run. And why was he bringing this up _now_ when his soul mate was right in front of him, caressing his face and hair gently, murmuring soft words of-

Wait.

Kurt was speaking to him and Blaine opened his eyes to see tears streaming down his mate's perfect features. "-no no, don't think that. I'm so _sorry, _Blaine. So sorry, I was stupid but I never thought…_god, _please don't think that. Please. I'm so sorry. Please don't think that. Don't. God, Blaine, please-"

He felt Kurt's fingers curl tightly in his hair, his forehead coming to rest on Blaine's as he murmured his apologies over and over, his tears wetting Blaine's skin. Blaine watched, and the evidence of Kurt's sorrow erased any doubts he had and he felt his heart constrict at seeing Kurt in such pain. He lifted his free hand from Kurt's waist so he was framing the boy's face. When he opened his eyes and Blaine could physically _see_ the regret and guilt in them, he did the only thing he could think of to make it go away. To make the pain go away for both of them.

Closing the tiny distance between them, he pressed his lips gently to Kurt's.

_Oh._

The sensation was like connecting all over again. He felt Kurt's breath hitch before the gentle pressure was returned and they were kissing softly, chastely, _perfectly._

_There you are._

The kiss was like a balm, it soothed over the pain of waiting, of running, of self-doubt and strengthened the connection between them, making it almost tangible in its intensity. Kurt's death grip on Blaine's curls loosened until he was rubbing his fingers through them gently, feeling the hum of approval against his chest as Blaine pulled him closer, one hand dropping to curl around his waist. They stayed like that for a few moments longer, revelling in the connection they could feel twining them together before Blaine gently pulled away. Kurt opened his eyes and was met by the twinkling gaze of the most perfect boy he'd ever seen or known.

_I've been looking for you forever._

They were vaguely aware that the Warblers around them were cheering and talking animatedly, but it was unimportant to Kurt compared to the strong arms that once again wrapped around his waist and pulled him into an almost bruising hug. He rested his head against Blaine's shoulder, sighing in contentment as Blaine rested his cheek against his hair and squeezed him slightly.

He never wanted to move again, not if it meant Blaine letting go of him.

Now that they'd found each other…well, Kurt was starting to understand why all his connected friends were all over their mates all the time. The feeling of completeness, of being right where you're meant to be, was addictive.

So, naturally, it was at this point that the real world decided to raise its ugly head.

"-don't know where they've – _Mercedes! _Do you know how unprofessional it is to run off moments before a performance? And you're _mixing with the competition! _What're you-why…why is Kurt hugging that boy?"

The dulcet tones of Rachel Berry's indignant shouting pulled Kurt reluctantly from his connection haze. He lifted his head to glare at the tiny singer but his grip on Blaine didn't weaken, in fact even as Blaine turned his attention to the girl he stepped closer, his temple brushing against Kurt's brow.

"Rachel if you took one second to look before embarking on one of your star performer rants, it would be blatantly obvious that I've finally connected." A small, adoring smile curved Blaine's lips as he listened to Kurt berate this girl – he didn't think he would ever get used to hearing that voice coming from the boy right next to him rather than as just a dream.

Rachel's features immediately softened. "Oh, Kurt that's…that's _wonderful_. I'm so happy for you," her eyes flitted to Blaine for a moment and she smiled. "I'm glad he's finally found you, he's been so lonely." Kurt felt the arms around his waist tighten and stroked his fingers across the back of Blaine's neck soothingly. They watched as Rachel's expression changed once again, becoming serious as she looked back at Kurt. "I-I know you've just found each other but Kurt – it's time for us to perform. We've already kept them waiting while we looked for you and…well, you need to decide what you want to do."

Kurt tightened his grip. He _did _want to perform, he'd worked hard and looked forward to it, but now…

He turned to Blaine who was watching him with a small smile. "You can go, it's okay."

"A-are you sure? Because I don't have to, I could-"

Blaine's smile widened at the adorably anxious expression on his mate's features. "Kurt, stop. I want you to, I'd love to see you perform. It's only fair after you got to watch me." Kurt's anxious expression was immediately replaced with a shy smile and he ducked his head slightly.

"Will you, um, stay-stay here and watch? So after I can just…" he trailed off, embarrassed, but Blaine quickly lifted his chin to force him to meet his gaze.

"I'll be right here."

Kurt smiled again. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Kurt hesitated for a moment before he leaned in and pressed his lips to Blaine's in a tender kiss. It only lasted a moment, too short a time, before Kurt was pulling away and stepping back, running his hands down Blaine arms to entwine their fingers. "I'll see you after then," he murmured.

"Definitely," and with a brief squeeze of their hands Kurt backed away, only turning when he reached Rachel and Mercedes who quickly hurried him onto the stage.

Blaine watched as his mate took his place in the group's formation, barely noticing the pats on the back and smiles from his fellow Warblers. There was a euphoria filling him that he'd never felt before, and even though Kurt wasn't right there with him he could still feel their connection. The sensation of pins and needles was gone, replaced instead with a soft buzz of warmth that covered him from head to toe. It was comforting and exhilarating at the same time.

Kurt was everything he'd wanted and everything he'd never dared to expect.

That day, Kurt gave the best performance of his life. He didn't even wait for the applause to die down before he was running off stage and into Blaine's -_his soul mate's- _arms, who was standing right where he said he would be.

_I've been looking for you forever._

* * *

><p><strong>TBC <strong>with an epilogue  
>Reviews would be cherished and adored<p> 


	4. Mates

**AN: **first I have to make two apologies: I'm sorry this took so long to get up and I'm sorry it's shorter than (probably) anticipated. I just reached the end and it felt like the end, any more would have been forced. but it's so cheesy and fluffy you might die so...it's worth it, I swear

second: THANK YOU for the amazing response! this was a little fledgling idea that's taken off and I'm proud of it and it's thanks to you all :) and now's the time when I ask (read: beg) for reviews - if you've alerted/favourited/enjoyed surely it's worth one?  
>wow long AN is long, sorry. I hope you enjoy the epilogue.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you<br>_Sweet dreams that leave your worries far behind you  
><em>_But in your dreams whatever they be  
><em>_Dream a little dream of me__

* * *

><p>"I can't believe this is real."<p>

The evening after Sectionals, the result of which was a New Directions tie with the Warblers, found the newly connected Kurt and Blaine lying together in Kurt's room which Burt had approved as long as the door was open, which it was. Barely.

Blaine just smiled at his mate's words, moving impossibly closer and rubbing his nose against Kurt's with a small smile. "I know, but it's perfect. You're perfect."

The grin that spread across Kurt's features was, incidentally, also perfect and Blaine couldn't help but smile with him, watching as his mate's eyes glittered. Kurt let out a tiny laugh then bit his lip before untangling one of his hands from where they were clasped between their chests and tracing his fingers over Blaine's brow, his cheek, his jaw with gentle concentration. "I never thought I'd find you, you know," he murmured. "Or at least not until I was eighty and wrinkled and reduced to wearing obnoxious knitted sweaters, living in a beautifully decorated apartment with my cats McQueen and Barbra," Blaine huffed out a laugh at that but quickly sobered when Kurt tilted his head until their eyes were locked. "I just want you to know that this really _is _perfect to me. You're perfect to me."

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Blaine's lips twitched and his eyes glittered with humour. "You're going to start singing Pink at me, aren't you?"

Kurt's eyes flashed as his jaw dropped slightly and he quickly hit the laughing boy on the arm, "_Blaine!_ I was being sentimental! I'm _never _sentimental, and you just had to go and completely ruin the moment." He pulled away from his mate, sitting up and crossing his arms with a small huff, his irritation only partly fake.

Blaine was quick to sit up beside him, wrapping both arms around the boy's waist and tucking his chin over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kurt," and although his voice was still rich with laughter, Kurt couldn't help but relax into his hold as Blaine continued: "I'm guessing that Top 40 is more my sort of music?"

"I think so," Kurt looked down at the strong arms holding him, running his fingertips across the skin lightly before Blaine twined their hands together. They sat like that for a moment and Kurt could feel Blaine's heartbeat against his back and his breath feathering against his jaw. "We really don't know anything about each other," his voice was soft, the comment an observation rather than a worry because he knew it didn't matter. Their connection, the peace he felt and the warmth under his skin that intensified wherever Blaine was touching him told him something important and basic: Blaine was his and he was Blaine's. It was as simple as that.

Blaine seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "We know the most important thing," his lips brushed softly against Kurt's ear, "_soul mate."_

Kurt closed his eyes and let the words wash over him: _soul mate. _He squeezed the hands in his gently and smiled softly when the pressure was returned. It was ridiculous how much this boy meant to him after only a few short hours, but at the same time it was nothing but natural.

After all, the teapot dwarf on the dark side of the moon had destined them for one another.

He turned to face Blaine and his smile grew at the sight of hazel eyes and dark curls and a charming grin. Their faces were incredibly close and Kurt leaned in to connect their lips with only a little hesitation, the knowledge that he had someone he could do this with now and that it was _okay_ to want it still sinking in. Blaine, on the other hand, seemed to have no such issues as Kurt felt one of his hands move from his waist to his jaw, the thumb caressing his cheek as Blaine deepened the kiss.

And dear god where on earth had his soul mate learned to kiss like _that?_

Twisting slightly in Blaine's arms Kurt returned the kiss with fervour, his grip tightening on the hand still at his waist. He brought his other hand up to grasp Blaine's arm, feeling warmth radiating through the thin shirt, sighing softly when Blaine ran his tongue gently across his bottom lip. He was about to return the favour when his mate pulled back. Kurt made a soft whine of protest followed quickly by a blush when he realised what he'd just done, but he tightened his grip on Blaine's arm anyway as the boy rested their foreheads together gently.

"Sorry I just," Blaine wetted his lips and smiled crookedly, "I thought we should probably talk before things get...heated. I mean, I know it doesn't matter but it still feels weird that the only things I really know about you are your name, that you're my soul mate, that you look really _really _good in skinny jeans and that you're in New Directions. It's a little weird, that's all. Don't you think it's weird? Wow I need to stop saying 'weird' and I'm not explaining this well at all-"

Kurt couldn't help but smile as his mate got more and more flustered and quieted him by pressing a finger firmly to the boy's lips. "Blaine it's fine, really. I'd love to know more about you." Blaine's answering smile made his heart skip a beat and then suddenly Kurt was being pulled back to his former position lying face to face with his mate, their hands cradled between their chests.

They stared at each other with excited anticipation but when neither of them spoke, Kurt let out a shaky laugh. "I, um...I don't know what to ask. This situation isn't exactly suited to normal conversation etiquette." _Which it should be, _he thought, _or it should have it's own. After all __soul mate etiquette is essential for everyone - 'How To Get To Know The Person You'll Spend The Rest Of Your Life With Without It Being Awkward' would be so helpful right now._

His thoughts were interrupted when Blaine smiled softly and shrugged, the movement strangely lopsided as he was lying down. "It's okay, we have time," Kurt couldn't help but smile at that. Now that they'd found each other, they had all the time in the world. "We could do twenty questions. Or something like a Q&A-"

"Soul mate Q&A? Really? Isn't that a show on some trashy channel somewhere?"

Blaine shrugged again, "It's probably the easiest way to do it until it doesn't feel so forced anymore."

"Because it's such a chore to talk to me."

"_Kurt."_

_"Blaine."_

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I do. You should know I have a very sharp wit and I'm not afraid to use it."

"Noted."

There was a moment where both just had to take a second to revel in the almost mundane conversation because after years of waiting this would now be an everyday, normal occurrence. It was fantastic.

"Okay, well how about we start simple?"

So they did: birthdays (Kurt was a winter baby, Blaine was born in the summer. Kurt said it made sense as summer tones would complement his skin tone the best), allergies (Blaine had reacted badly to a peanut once, but mostly because he almost choked on it), hobbies (Kurt nonchalantly told Blaine about his time on the Cheerios and was amazed when his mate basically whimpered at the admission before kissing him hard), earliest memory (a six-year-old Kurt's mom presenting him with custom made coveralls whilst his dad watched from the doorway with a fond smile; Blaine's mom helping him play the piano for the first time), family (how Kurt lost his mom and Blaine constantly deals with a quietly, and sometimes loudly unaccepting father) and a dozen others.

That first afternoon they spent hours just talking, connecting through shared passions and all the time revelling in the sense of completion and _oneness _flooding through them. As Blaine was kindly thrown out by Burt when the hour grew late, they made plans to spend the weekend together. Those second and third days turned into weeks, months, years – and all that time never seemed like enough. They could never have enough time talking together, laughing, kissing, _loving_ each other. All the time in the world could never be enough, even though sometimes it seemed like it was all just too much, too good to be true. Even in seventy years, they would enchant their grandchildren with the story of how they finally found their soul mate with clasped hands and smiles and eyes so full of love it was almost unbearable.

But in this moment they were recently connected soul mates, two halves of a whole, and Kurt had to commend the romance-novel-reading teapot dwarf on its choice: he couldn't think of anyone more suited to him than Blaine. Not even Neil Patrick Harris.

* * *

><p><em>Kurt Hummel's Soul Mate Is...<em>

_Romantic (when he stops trying)  
>Fashionable<em> _(well, __he's a fast learner. It'll have to do)  
>A gentleman (check)<br>Obsessed with music and musicals (double check)  
><em>_Classically handsome (that's putting it lightly. A young Burt Reynolds indeed)  
>Perfect<em>

oOo

_Blaine Anderson's Soul Mate Is..._

_Beautiful (inside and out)  
>An angel when he sings<br>A fashionista  
>A snuggler (even though he says he's not)<br>Just perfect  
>All mine<em>

* * *

><p><strong>FIN<br>**Reviews, as always, would be cherished and adored


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